


Go Far

by SincerelyYourNightmare



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Character Study, No Plot/Plotless, This Is STUPID
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-08
Updated: 2020-01-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:42:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22167304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SincerelyYourNightmare/pseuds/SincerelyYourNightmare
Summary: Bruce has never felt a connection to music. That changes. Abruptly.
Kudos: 1





	Go Far

**Author's Note:**

> Sponsored by You're Gonna Go Far Kid ~ The Offspring. It got stuck in my head. This is its excision. 
> 
> Also, this has allusions to Bruce's Tragic Backstory including child abuse, so you know. It's just a brief mention but stay safe. 
> 
> I'm not satisfied but I gotta do something to force myself to do longer stuff. I wrote this thinking it would turn out one way and then it turned out like this shit.

There was a lot of limb-twitching going on in the kitchen and Bruce was slightly confused until the music filtered into his groggy mind. Led Zeppelin? Oh. A dance session.  
Bruce… had never had this. This joyful flinging of body parts, not caring if they hit one another, yelling lyrics at each other’s faces and at the ceiling. It was a party of two, just Tony and Clint, but it was enough.  
Bruce’s home life was sub-par as a kid and then when he had been the genius mad scientist, all his attention had been on his experiments and then Betty. Throwing bottles at a kid to make him jump back was the extent of Robert’s interaction with dance.  
He knew, with the wisdom that comes from distance and time apart, that Betty had been a horrid fit for him. She had been kind, but probably felt obligated to let the friendless awkward nerd stare at her in awe through stilted conversation. No doubt it had been a confidence booster for her, as well, for someone, anyone, to look at her like she was the only thing that mattered. For an Army brat of a General, leaving the shadows of family could be difficult and rewarding when it happened.  
Betty’s relationship with him was different to his with her and that, more than her maniac, fanatic father, was the reason he felt guiltily glad he was away from her. Recognition was the first step to recovery. But no, their relationship hadn’t been a dance-in-the-kitchen type at all.  
Tony was a being of energy. He was never still, not completely. Even at his workstation he was twirling a stylus, chewing on snacks or shifting on his feet every few seconds. Clint was similar, in that all his energy was contained; a sniper couldn’t fidget but he could damn well make a snarky, witty, intelligent reply to anything thrown at him. Clint’s energy radiated from a contained centre.  
Watching them recover from their jumping frenzy with breathless gasps and claps on the shoulder, Bruce felt like an observer. It wasn’t a new feeling. And… yes, there was the pang of jealousy. Breathe in, hold, breathe out with shoulders back. Let it go.  
The intro for the next song was already pouring from hidden speakers. Clint looked at Tony in amused annoyance when jackdaw chirps and cawing were clearly audible but shook his head in acceptance. Bruce was barely surprised when the song launched straight into guitar chords and drums with the singer giving the melody on top. It was a little more folky than Tony’s usual, but neither of them seemed to mind it when the chorus got them bouncing again.  
There was something in his chest that Bruce couldn’t quite figure out; it was like a heavy stone that expanded up the trachea without constricting his breathing. Bruce barely had time to identify it as fondness before something more stirred awake alongside it.

_“Betty?”_

Bruce was abruptly alarmed and tried to compensate with the breathing exercise again, but it wasn’t working, maybe because he wasn’t angry or scared. Other than of the Other Guy making an appearance during a bonding moment between teammates.  
Clint and Tony jumped around like sugar-high children, none the wiser, the music drowning out anything that might have alerted them to his presence. Bruce calmed when nothing further happened. Hulk didn’t go back to sleep, though.

_“Not Betty. Flying man and Bird man! Friends.”_

Well, it was progress, so Bruce didn’t argue. There was still the minor freak-out he was having in the back of his mind because _Hulk was speaking_ , but that was inconsequential.

_“Friends have fun! Hulk want fun!”_

Oh. Well. Bruce felt… a lot of things, right then. The major one was guilt. Because Hulk wasn’t smashing, wasn’t pushing at Bruce, trying to gain control. And there was something fundamental shifting about Bruce’s perception about Hulk. Hulk wasn’t smashing. _Hulk want fun_.  
Bruce was certain his pulse was way over the limit.  
And still Hulk wasn’t pushing, just longing; watching Tony and Clint via Bruce’s eyes. Bruce could feel him.

_“Banner stupid! Hulk friends have fun, Hulk have fun!”_

Ah, there was that old favourite. _Banner stupid_. Hysterical laughing was bubbling out of Bruce’s mouth but thankfully the music was still playing loudly so he didn’t have to hear himself.  
_Why aren’t you doing anything?_ Bruce wanted to shout at Hulk. In the past, Hulk always came out when Bruce was feeling too many things at once.

_“Banner stupid. Hulk DOING something.”_

Bruce had a second of primal alarm while he checked his body was still his. It took a moment to focus on his shaking hands. No green. Confusion clouded Bruce’s thoughts so that even when he saw Clint spot him and pull Tony over, there was no recognition.

_“Hulk watching.”_

“Hey, Green Bean! Come dance! Clint’s new ears are truly awesome and we’re celebrating my genius. Compliance is required.”< /> Clint rolled his eyes at Tony’s excited chatter, pulling Bruce’s stunned form deeper into the communal space. His ears were fine, so Bruce didn’t… oh, new hearing aids. Bruce saw the barest hint of silver flash when Clint bent around his chest to wink at Tony.  
“Dance, fucker, dance!” Tony demanded and launched into a perfect-pitch recitation of the bridge.  
Bruce’s strange chest-feeling swelled more when Clint harmonised off-key and there were suddenly two flailing men trying to encourage his own limbs to join in. His arms refused, though, and it ended up with a smiling Bruce being ringed by the two enthusiasts. He even allowed a small chuckle when they struck dramatic poses at the end of the song. It was slightly hysterical and he cut it off before the two picked up on it.

_“Banner good - Hulk good. See?”_

Bruce had a disconnect where he knew he wasn’t getting something, while Hulk was. This wasn’t supposed to happen – Hulk wasn’t supposed to be able to watch, only take over, ruin his life, destroy whatever Bruce had been working on-  
“You alright there, Broccoli?” Tony asked, cautiously peering into his eyes. Bruce had no idea what they were showing.  
“I – yeah. Yeah, I think so.”  
“Well, Jarvis, queue up the best songs to rock out to, then, and we’ll whip up a celebratory meal! Dibs on the oven!”  
Clint looked at him in only-sort-of mock horror and then shook his head vigorously.  
“Nuh-uh-uh; you’ll be manning the cutting board, water-burner,” he said, pointing at the counter. Tony pouted.  
“Dibs on the sharpest knives, then!” Tony perked up and then grinned. “Oh yeah! Jarvis, play The Sharpest Lives first!”  
Clint glared while pulling out ingredients from the fridge by the handful. “MCR? What are you, an angsty teenager?”  
“I can pull off angst, no problem!” Tony joked-not-joked and caught the onion that was thrown at his grin. Obligingly, the whispering-moaning of Gerard Way filled their ears and Tony mouthed it all word-perfect at a glaring Clint.

Bruce wasn’t even listening anymore, that heavy feeling rising and rising at a startling speed. When it popped and all Bruce could feel was kinship with these weird child-men, Hulk rumbled with him. Hope filled the empty spaces, painful on its entry but gentle when it settled. It was frightening, feeling things again. Bruce tried the breathing, but his lungs wouldn’t follow his instructions. Hulk grumbled and suddenly Bruce wasn’t breathing, _Hulk_ was. And as soon as Bruce realised and began to panic, Hulk let go.  
Hulk _let go_. Without prompting or struggling or any kind of fight, internal or external.

_“Hulk like noise. Roaring good. This better.”_

Bruce… felt faint. He turned to the others, drawing strength in their faith of his control. Except it wasn’t faith, it was trust. Something he had never gotten before. Something he had never _given_.  
When the chorus came on, Clint and Tony trying to out-do each other with their chopping skills, Bruce even bopped his head.

**Author's Note:**

> JC editing this was a horror. I'm done.


End file.
